


The Cut

by Fyrielle



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Smut, So smutty, Wow, very much smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 06:30:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15213218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyrielle/pseuds/Fyrielle
Summary: Haurchefant sure wasn't expecting Warrior of Light Fyris Vellir to show up at his door and take him up on his offer to share a warm bed.





	The Cut

He couldn't believe his eyes when he opened the door. It was pretty late in the night already, and he wasn't expecting anyone, let alone her.

"I've come to take you up on that offer from earlier," she smiled. "About sharing a warm bed?"  
"I... I didn't think you'd take me seriously."  
"I always take you seriously, Haurchefant."

Looking stumped, Haurchefant stared at her, voiceless, jaw hanging slightly open and eyes round with surprise. A fleeting moment passed, until a gust of wind made Fyris shiver and sneeze.

"By the Twelve, please come in, you must be freezing."

*****

He wouldn't stop babbling. One second he talked about the weather, next thing you knew he was listing the supplies his camp needed to replenish, then mentioned his chocobo training. Fyris sat quietly, listening without seeming to mind his panicky state. 

"I- I'm going to make more hot chocolate and-"

He stood up so quickly that he accidentally dropped the cup he was holding, and the item shattered on the floor. Shocked by his own clumsiness, Haurchefant stood petrified. In one instant, Fyris was kneeling in front of him, carefully gathering the broken pieces.

"Please let me take care of-"  
"It's okay Haurchefant, I've got it."  
"Let me..."

As he reached out to grab one of the debris Fyris was holding, he accidentally sliced her hand, making the woman wince. Haurchefant let panic and shame wash over him once more.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that, I just..."  
"Haurchefant. Please hear my request. Sit down."

He swallowed, hard, then nodded and went back to his seat, head hanging low. A million times had he dreamed of a romantic rendez-vous with the infamous Warrior of Light, and he kept ruining everything. Come tomorrow she'd never want to have anything to do with him ever again. 

Fyris finished gathering the pieces of the broken cup and put them on the table, making sure there was nothing left that they might step on and hurt themselves with. She glanced at Haurchefant, who had remained silent, and her heart ached. He looked so sad, so defeated and ashamed. Surely there was something she could do to turn the tide.

Haurchefant gasped loudly as he felt a warm weight on his leg. He smelled her before he could even realize it was her, sitting on his lap; a slight scent of fresh mint and warm spices, so refreshing and soothing. 

"Have you calmed down?"  
"Y-yes. I.... I'm sorry. May I see your hand?"

Fyris opened her palm wide. The cut wasn't deep but it was rather long. He noticed her blood was still dripping, almost reaching her wrist now. Without thinking, he did the first thing his instincts ordered him to.

Fyris shivered and had to hold back a shameful moan as Haurchefant unexpectedly took her palm to his lips and licked her trickling blood carefully. She watched him in silence, unsure of how to react. She still decided the gesture was sweet and caring, and didn't remove her hand. Haurchefant however, swiftly released her and started blushing profusely.

"I-I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry I'll... I'll go get something to clean up your wound!"

He started moving to indicate he wanted to stand up but Fyris refused. She applied more of her weight to his lap, deciding she wouldn't cooperate.

"It's fine. You've done enough. Thank you."  
"You're still bleeding."  
"Won't you take care of it?"

He swallowed and searched her eyes for more details. Did she really imply she wanted to be licked clean? Did she mean something else? Maybe he was carrying a tissue he could use or...

"You don't have to," she added after a while.

Realizing she did mean she wanted him to repeat his previous ministrations, Haurchefant shook his head and answered quickly, refusing to give her time to change her mind.

"No, it's fine. Please allow me."

He gently took her hand in his, this time noticing how tiny it was. Her whole hand could fit in his palm. He smiled tenderly, finding this detail infinitely cute. He raised her palm to his lips, letting his breath ghost over the cut. He had acted purely on instinct earlier, without thinking. How was he supposed to lick her? With the tip of his tongue? The flat? Just one long stroke, several quick ones? Was he supposed to lap at her blood thoroughly or just roughly clean her up? 

"Don't know what to do with this tongue of yours? That's a first," Fyris teased. "Listen, forget I said anything, let me go clean myself up."

She started standing up when Haurchefant's arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her firmly in place. He suddenly felt like the situation was back into his own hands and regained some confidence.

"Allow me, please."

Fyris nodded softly and watched silently as he pressed his thin lips to her cut. He kissed along it a few times, his touch feather like, making Fyris' heart melt. He then finally stuck out the tip of his tongue and touched it to the wound tentatively, just to taste her. Rich, metallic and tangy, as expected. Yet this blood was hers, and it made a world of differences to him.  
He laved the wound thoroughly until the bleeding stopped, then proceeded to cleaning the drips that had started drying up on her wrist. As he pressed his lips to the thin, pale skin, he heard a low moan. Alerted, he looked at her from beneath his long lashes. She was looking back with half lidded eyes, a flush on her cheeks. Thinking he didn't want to embarrass her for accidentally moaning, he returned to his task, applying his lips to her skin with a little more pressure. To his surprise, she moaned again, louder this time.

He decided not to look at her. She'd probably get so flustered she'd end this moment right away. Instead, he kept pretending nothing happened and closed his eyes. He pressed his lips to her pulse, feeling it beating faster and faster. The Warrior of Light, strong, independent, unstoppable, was getting aroused from a few licks? Getting aroused by him?

He felt a familiar wave of heat wash over him and wrap around his heart. This warmth, it was so similar to the way she always made him feel, but so much more powerful than usual. He wanted more of this. Wanted to know how far he could go. How far she'd indulge him.

Gently, he started nipping at her small wrist, sometimes pausing to suck on her thin skin, discovering her taste. She didn't moan again but he felt her shiver and twitch. She wiggled on his lap a little, trying to make herself comfortable, and failing. He extended the arm that was still wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

Softly, he alternated kisses and light bites on her wrist. Her breathing started hitching, making him want more. More of her sweet moans, more of her pulse beating like a hammer, more of her body steadily trembling against his.

His free hand started tugging at her sleeve, revealing more of her porcelain skin. His lips followed, leaving a searing hot trail on the inside of her forearm. She gasped. Still no rejection. Part of Haurchefant couldn't understand why she hadn't already punched him, the other part was starting to enjoy this situation greatly, his confidence growing by the minute. He found himself concerned when he felt another part of him grow and swell up as well. What was he doing? She was holy, sacred, thinking of her that way would only soil her.

"Haurchefant...." she whispered, getting him out of his reverie.  
"What is it?" he asked in a low voice, as if expecting to get scolded.  
"Please don't stop..."

He blushed furiously and more of this heat started pooling in his lower belly. She wasn't rejecting him? She wanted more? Plagued with questions, Haurchefant still carried on mindlessly, his lips now nearing the sensitive inside of her elbow. He toyed around with the skin here, drawing lazy circles while his mind tortured him. He tried pulling on her sleeve some more, but this part was too tight and wouldn't budge. He struggled with it for a little while, until Fyris removed her hand from him. He felt his stomach sink, thinking everything was over, but the young woman simply removed her vest, leaving the top part of her body exposed in skin tight sleeveless underarmor. The path had now been cleared up to her shoulder. 

She looked at him with uncertainty in her eyes, inviting him to take the next move. Carefully, as if handling a wounded bird, Haurchefant took her hand again, placing firm kisses on her skin, rapidly progressing from her wrist to her bicep. He waited a while here, finding himself facing a massive scar that intimidated him, then chose to pull on her collar to allow access to her neck.

By the Twelve, her skin seemed so soft and fragile there, as if one bite would be enough to kill her. Listening to whatever pulsion took him over, Haurchefant sank his teeth in her neck. She cried out and moaned at the same time, pressing herself flush against him. Haurchefant responded by holding her even tighter, the feel of her soft chest crushed against him making his mouth dry. He lapped at the skin he'd just bitten before starting to suck on it. She always wore high collars, it was okay to leave a mark, right? He kept suckling and licking until her skin turned a satisfying shade of purple and grinned to himself. He was starting to gain pride from this. He kissed and nipped at Fyris' jaw, pressing her harder against him. He was desperate for contact and started hating the way he was so heavily clothed.

Happy with his treatment on her jaw, he pulled away to look at his work. Her left arm was covered in hickeys and bites, and a few leftover traces of blood on her wrist stood witnesses of how this madness had started. She was breathing heavily, her cheeks were deliciously flushed. And her eye. Oh, her eye. The usually soft and tender green orb was dark with desire. Desire for him, just one poor lovesick fool amongst many, he was sure.

"Are you going to stop here?" she whispered.  
"You... You want me to continue?"  
"Do you want to?"

Haurchefant swallowed, unable to tear his eyes away from her lips. So many times had he wondered how she might taste, how she might kiss, how soft her lips would be... and he was getting a chance to find out. There was no way he'd allow himself to chicken out from this.

"I'll stop you if you do anything I don't like. But I don't think I'll have to."

His lips returned to the jaw he had abandoned, his tongue leaving a trail up to her chin. He took in a sharp breath, savoring this perfect moment. He raised a hand to her cheek, softly tilting her face, and pressed his lips to hers gently. He swore he could hear her purr in appreciation, and almost moaned himself when he felt her fingers dig into his hair. He pulled back, just enough to whisper her name against her, then returned to kissing her sweetly. He inhaled sharply as he felt her lips part slightly, inviting him in. Thinking it'd be rude to ignore the offer, Haurchefant ran the tip of his tongue against her sweet lips, tasting her for the first time. She tasted the same way she smelled; sweet and fresh, like a summer breeze in the mountains.

He touched the tip of his tongue to hers with hesitation. Her lips felt so warm yet her mouth was deliciously fresh. He wrapped his tongue around hers and tightened his grip on her body. In return, he felt her completely and suddenly relax in his arms. She was giving herself to him.

Equally touched and excited by this statement, Haurchefant wrapped her in his arms and stood up, manoeuvring them through the room towards the fireplace. Without breaking their kiss, he deposited her on a blanket and started tugging at his own armor. He was starting to feel quite hot and uncomfortable, not to mention how bad he wanted to feel her skin against his. Impatiently, his fingers fiddled with the fastenings of his chainmail. Damn it all, he was usually able to remove it without even thinking, why was he so clumsy whenever she was around? Thankfully, Fyris decided to take the matter in her own hands and help with the impossible task. It only took her a few seconds to disrob him from his heavy garment, as if she'd done it countless times before. Without giving this a second thought, Haurchefant swiftly removed the dark suit he was wearing underneath, shivering as the cold air brushed his bare chest. Underneath him, Fyris opened up her arms wide, silently inviting him.

With all the care in the world, he slowly laid down on top of her, a groan escaping him as she spread her strong thighs to welcome him closer. Desperate for his touch, Fyris grabbed the hand he wasn't using for support and pressed it to her waist, where her underarmor and pants were meeting.

"Kiss me..." she whispered in a hoarse voice. 

He was more than happy to comply. He gave her the sweetest, most tender and loving kiss he was capable of, his tongue gently caressing every corner of her mouth, tangling with her own tongue, learning what made her shiver and what made her moan. His hand started toying with the seam of her top, the soft skin all but calling out to him. Out of air, he finally broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to admire her. Rapid breathing, flushed cheeks, swollen lips and her long hair spread around her, he'd never seen her so beautiful, so... desirable. He couldn't believe this was happening to him.

"Are you comfortable?" he inquired, genuinely concerned and needing to distract himself from the rather erotic thoughts that were creeping over him.

She nodded with a gentle smile. He nodded back and bent over her to kiss her sweetly, his hand caressing her side.

"You're not cold, are you?"  
"You're keeping me warm."

He blushed slightly. He was obviously anxious, hence the endless questions, yet she couldn't help but find this adorable, and so fitting to his caring nature.

"Touch me more," she asked.

As if to give more strength to her words, she grabbed his hand on her side and pulled it north, until the tip of his fingers lightly grazed the underside of her breast. He swallowed.

"Is it... really alright?"  
"Haurchefant. I don't think you could ever do anything I wouldn't be okay with."

He nodded, feeling the tips of his ears blush and burn. He randomly caressed her side, his hand gradually making way to her abs, and he marveled at how chiseled she was, then he slowly made his way back to her breast. Fyris chuckled lightly.

"Let go. I can see it in your eyes, this raw desire you're so afraid to show me. I want to see it, Haurchefant. I want to see all of you tonight. And I want to feel it too," she added while squeezing his hips against hers. "Please. Let me have this."  
"You're... you're going to be the death of me," he babbled while his whole face and chest turned a bright red.

She smiled and laughed. 

"Haurchefant. I want you. Please don't make me beg."

He gave her another of these sweet kisses, just to give himself time to calm down, but she had other plans in mind. She dropped her passive act and started kissing him back hungrily. Her hand went to the nape of his neck, which she started clawing desperately. He moaned loudly in her mouth as her hips violently bucked against his. The last shreds of his self control were starting to give up.

He had to give her what she wanted. By the Twelve, he would downright die for her, so if she requested was a little more passion, he was happy to comply. Without a glance, he lifted the top that was still covering her breasts, letting them bounce free. He abruptly broke their passionate kiss and went for her neck, which he bit down, hard, while his free hand started palming her ample chest.

"Yes..." she whispered, arching her back to meet his lips.  
"You're so eager..."  
"I've wanted this for so long."  
"You did?"  
"Since the very first time we met. I thought you were a little odd, but so sweet. And I've wanted these arms to hold me ever since."  
"I... didn't think you'd feel that way about me, ever."  
"What about you though? How do you feel?"

He chose to answer with another of his sweet, tender kisses, making her melt in his hands. She was all his.

They rapidly finished disrobing one another until they found each other panting, searching for whatever rare air was left between their hungry mouths. She was convinced she had managed to destroy every last shred of self control he had, yet his mood seemed to suddenly change; he returned to good old overcaring Haurchefant, with a side of shyness she admitted she was expecting. His hips were aligned with hers and she could almost feel him, so close yet so far. Her need was killing her, yet he looked so calm, careful. In control. 

"Please promise me you want this," he whispered so low she barely heard it. "And that this isn't another foolish dream of mine."  
"This is real", she answered in a hoarse voice she barely recognized. "This is all for real. Please."

He nodded gravely and placed his large hands on each side of her face, his eyes locked on hers. He wanted to see her face, her eyes, hear her voice.

She felt him slowly spread her. He was searing hot, and she could feel him twitch against her wet entrance. She wiggled her hips against his, trying to get him to proceed faster. But he wanted to take his time and savor this moment.

"Here goes..." he whispered and gently pushed himself in.

She mewled and arched her back, eye closing, hand digging in the heavy blanket. She only felt the tip of him, yet it was already so good, so filling, so satisfying, yet merely enough at all. She looked at him with pleading eyes, desperate for more. He slowly rocked his hips against her, inching just a little further in, a loud moan escaping him this time. Gods, she was even tighter than he had imagined. Scared to death that he might be overwhelming for her, he bent over once again and kissed her gently.

He knew he wasn't especially big, but she was a hyur, and a rather tiny one too. He'd never been with one before, but he had heard soldiers go on and on about how good it felt to ravish a helpless miqo'te or hyur, about how soft and pliant they were. Fyris felt like heaven to him, so warm, moist, inviting. He had to admit every fiber of his being was ordering him to plunge all the way in, and pound into her like there was no tomorrow. But he cared about her beyond words, and the possibility of hurting her was terrorizing to him.

"Please..." she whined.  
"I want you to enjoy this," he confessed while pushing himself just a bit more in.

She moaned softly. She did seem to enjoy herself, and he decided to push more of his length in without waiting. Another delighted moan escaped her, followed by a frustrated groan when he pulled back almost all the way out.

"What the..."  
"Let me handle you. Please."

She sighed. She obviously didn't like being so helpless but she was indulging him all the same. Thankful for her trust, he slowly pushed half of his length back into her, marveling at how pleasure could distort her face. He pulled back once more. She was enjoying it.

He built up a slow, lazy rhythm, each time pushing a bit more of him against her tight walls. When he could finally bury himself whole in her welcoming depths, he sighed with what seemed like relief and gave her a heated kiss.

"Faster now?" he asked while caressing her cheek.  
"Please..."

He rocked against her, hard. She writhed in his arms, overcome with a sharp wash of pleasure as she felt him spread and stretch her like never before. How could she ever go back to her own species after that? He pulled back and slammed right in, making her a shaking mess beneath him. Steadily, he increased his rhythm and strength, gradually racing towards a speed strength that seemed satisfying for them both. 

He was losing it. The faster he went, the more she could hear him mutter to himself between each thrust. She couldn't make out what he saying first, but it became obvious. He was praising her, her battles, her victories, her body, her mind, her beauty. He was saying how much he loved, adored, admired her. His hand went for her bouncing breasts, roughly kneading her soft flesh. It was too much. 

Her voice broke and her moans replaced by hoarse cries and huffed breaths. Her vision got blurry until all she could see was his loving face and passionate eyes. She felt a wave of searing heat rise deep within her and threaten to swallow her whole.

"Haurchefant...!" she whispered and shut her eye tight.  
"Look at me!" he pleaded.

She snapped her eye open and her hand went to his, desperate something tangible to hold on to. Her world shattered, her back arched violently, her hips started moving on their own to meet his thrusts, her toes curled and she cried out as sweet release washed over her.

Feeling her tighten around him, Haurchefant groaned in pleasure. Seeing her flushed face, love drunk eye, he felt his release creep closer and closer. His hand went to support the small of her back, as she was still arched against him, and he pounded into her the exact way his gut had begging him to all along, and mind wouldn't allow, fearing he'd cover her in sin and shame. The equally arousing and disturbing thought was what did him in, and he spilled his seed deep inside her, out of breath and of strength.

He resisted the urge to let himself fall atop her and rolled to the side. Surprisingly, she rolled with him, keeping him trapped inside her walls.

"Stay a bit longer please," she asked.  
"As long as you want me to."

She nestled herself against him, and his heart fluttered. He wrapped his long arms around her, keeping her close and safe.

"What have I done..." he muttered.  
"Haurchefant?"  
"It's nothing..."

She lifted her face and locked eyes with his.

"Haurchefant... Care to tell me what this is?"  
"What is what?"  
"This... Us.... Is it a fling?"

He looked away for a second and chuckled with embarrassment.

"I thought it was obvious. I... Have feelings for you."

She swallowed and nodded. Of course she knew. Everyone knew.

"What about you?"

She stopped breathing and looked into his eyes. So sad looking, so full of hope. She didn't want to let him down but she also wanted to be honest. Completely honest.

"I... Do feel for you. Only..."  
"Only?"  
"You're going to think I'm crazy. I have this feeling of... Dread, that washes over me and tugs at my heart whenever I think about confessing to you. As if something terrible was going to happen if I did so."  
"..."  
"I'm... stupid, ain't I?"  
"No. I understand. But Fyris..."

He gently placed a hand on her cheek, loving, caressing.

"I'm not going anywhere."


End file.
